


Burn

by BrinaMay



Series: Helpless [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Burn Hamilton, Cheating, F/M, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8759059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinaMay/pseuds/BrinaMay
Summary: "I saved every letter you wrote me. From the moment I read them, I knew you were mine. You said you were mine. I thought you were mine." -Eliza Schuyler, HamiltonShe should have known, but now it was time to burn it all away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Best when paired with "Burn" from the Hamilton soundtrack.

She bit her lip, pages upon pages of folded papers scattered around her. Her breathing was heavy, throat tight and eyes blurry. She stood up, legs unsteady and hands trembling. Her hand reached for the bottle of scotch that Tony had given Steve on the day they moved into the house. The fire crackled in front of her. The colors of the flames danced around the room.  
The warmth was too much to handle. The stress. The endless nights of trying not to scream out in pain. Not the pain of the stabbing cold that swept in from the empty spot next to her. Or the pain of every article showing how their lives had fallen downhill. No, it wasn’t something that was so easily touchable. That could be so easily removed. It was the pain that left you to stop breathing when the whole world found out the secrets that were never told to you. The pain of realizing that what has been yours for so long was never yours to begin with.  
Her lips trembled as she lifted an envelope from the pile, her name written in elegant script. The paper slept from her hand and was slowly engulfed in the flames.  
-  
The snow was falling like rain, a thick blanket of white coating the city. Her eyes were stiff with cold by the time she had gotten inside and opened the mailbox. A heavy sigh passed her chapped lips, pulling out the stack and heading upstairs. She counted the steps till she ended up in front of her door, rifling through the stack of bills. Her hands paused on a single letter, the font elegant and hand printed. She rose a brow as she kicked the door shut behind her, putting the rest of the mail on the small hallway table as she wandered in deeper to the apartment.  
She glanced to the return address, breath stopping in her throat. Excitement warmed her, fingers eagerly trying to open the thin paper. Her thoughts were running wild as she moved to sit down on the couch. Her hands were gripping it tightly, causing wrinkles to form. Her eyes burned brighter and bright with every word.  
“What is it?”  
“Steve. It’s Steve.” She looked up, eyes eager as she stared at the familiar face of her sister.  
“Honey…”  
“He wants to meet me sometime.” Her smile was brighter than the summer sun, excitement clear and loud.  
“He’s not good, that boy.” Her tongue clicked.  
“I’m going to write him back.” She stood up again, eagerly kicking off her shoes and shrugging her coat off.  
“He’s a survivor. Don’t get yourself too deep.” Her sister's voice was lost as she closed the door behind her.  
-  
She was half way through the bottle by the time the tears had stopped. She smiled at the memories she and Steve had had together. The way he had written her the world before giving it to her. The way he had made her ache with a single sentence. Hands shaking and knees weak by the time she stood in front of her mirror for their first date, waiting eagerly for his arrival downstairs. She never expected anything but happily ever after from letting him in. From giving him anything and everything she had had.  
From the moment he had first given her that bouquet of flowers on their first date to the moment he had gotten down on his knee in front of her, she had been a dream. Her wet laughter filled the empty house, a sob leaving her as her eyes burned again. Her fingers gripping the bottle like a life support. She should’ve seen this sooner, should have known. She was such an idiot.

 

She smiled softly as she watched the two men hug tightly. Her attention was drawn back to their guests, smile bright as she gently smoothed out the heavy material of her white gown. A hand touched the small of her back, making her look up into the blue eyes she had fallen in love with. He pulled her away from the friends she was talking to, giving a quick apology before they slid on the dance floor.  
Her eyes caught Bucky’s form as Steve gently twirled her, the brunette's jaw tight and his eyes slanted. Her lips parted, looking back to Steve to ask him what was wrong. His smile dazzled her, though, forcing her breath to catch in her throat. His lips pressed against her forehead.  
“You look stunning, Mrs. Rogers.” He teased quietly.  
“You’ve said that already Mr. Rogers.”  
“It doesn’t make it any less true.”  
She rolled her eyes, and the moment his lips touched hers she was swept back up in the fantasy he created for her.  
-  
She could remember hearing the news over the television playing in the living room, knife pausing in her hand as she hesitated. Her heart pounding as she moved to where the sound was coming from. There was a deafening thud in her head, lips parting as their familiar faces took up the screen. Her head tilted to the side.  
“It seems that Steve Rogers, yes, as in Captain America, has reportedly openly announced his affair with James Barnes. It seems that their affair has been going on ever since they were reconnected…” The anchor woman’s smile cause bile to rise in her throat.  
The knife clattered as it hit the floor, hand raising up to cover her mouth. She tried to take a deep breath, praying to god this was just another tabloid attempt to gain followers. The phone started vibrating in her pocket as the one in the home cradle rang. Her hand reached into her pocket, blindly answering.  
“Babe, I can explain…”  
She shut it off, the tears blinding now. She could barely breathe as she sat on the couch, listening as the answering machine kicked in. Listening as he tried to explain that they’d talk when he got home. Listening as he never once denied the allegations. Her body had shifted into autopilot. And then she was here.  
Sitting in a pile of every letter he had ever written her and seeing how long it took to reach the glass bottom. His words were echoing in her head. Twirling around her dulled thoughts like the tea cups that had made her nauseous at the summer fair they had taken the summer to drive out to.  
“It would’ve been so much worse if I had denied it.”  
As if never telling her made it so much better.  
She gathered the letters in her arms, moving closer till she was face to face with the roaring fireplace. Her fingers stumbled as she feed the hungry flames, the heat nipping her frozen fingers eagerly. She watched as the paper and ink that had kept her up until dawn, that had kept her heart pounding and mind enchanted with the thoughts of happily ever after, watched as they slowly burned.  
She could barely breathe as the last letter slipped past her fingertips. He had given this up. The right to have these memories. The right to remind her of those feelings. The right to have anyone know what sweet word he had whispered onto the papers she had once clutched to her chest.  
He lost the right to her heart.  
She was just waiting for him to finish burning.


End file.
